


Guardian

by TheBigChillQueen



Category: Robotboy (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Guardian - Freeform, Guardians - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Protection, Protectiveness, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-11 01:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15304113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBigChillQueen/pseuds/TheBigChillQueen
Summary: Tommy falls ill, but that was only the start of his and Robotboy's worries. Rated T for some suggestive material.





	Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> I may call Robotboy my son, but he nor his awesome show, sadly, does not belong to me. He belongs to the awesome Jan Van Rijsselberge, who also created my favorite show, "Dude, That's My Ghost!"!
> 
> This can also be read on my FF.net account!
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2470887/TheBigChillQueen

 

“Ah-choo!”

“Bless Tommy.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

10-year old Tommy Turnbull sniffled, absentmindedly swiping a finger below his nose. He adjusted his goggles before he resumed soldering a microchip he’d been developing for Robotboy almost nonstop since the start of summer vacation, which was three weeks ago. He was nearly finished; he just needed to make a few more tweaks.

That darn tickling in his nose interrupted his progress once more.

“Ah-choo!”

Robotboy shifted his attention from the TV to his best friend, who was sitting at his lab bench, using a tissue to blow his nose.

“Bless Tommy,” Robotboy repeated, now sounding suspicious of something. That was the tenth sneeze in the past five minutes.

“Ugh, thanks,” Tommy muttered, his voice sounding nasally.

“Tommy okay?” Robotboy asked.

“I’m fine. It’s just a sneeze, Ro. It’s a bit dusty in here, that’s all.”

           

Robotboy knew that was a lie for Mom had cleaned Tommy’s room that morning before leaving with Dwight for the weekend. His scanners didn’t detect any allergens in the air, either. Now that Robotboy thought about it, over the course of these three weeks, Tommy had begun to sound a bit off. Everytime he talked, his voice sounded hoarse and he had difficulties breathing through his nose; most likely as a result of spending nearly all his extra free time holed up in his room, hunched over that desk with the window and curtains shut, which kept the fresh air out and the stale one in. Tommy got up only to eat, shower, and use the bathroom; all of which he had done rather quickly, Robotboy realized, thinking back to an hour ago, around dinner time. He didn’t have to wait as long as he normally did for his human friend to finish his meal, which made him wonder if Tommy was even eating as much as he should.

Tommy had also been secretly staying up later than he was allowed to. As a result, he was only getting about four to five hours of sleep per night. The dark circles underneath his eyes were more prominent than before, something that he successfully hid from his caring mother. Robotboy was no fool, though. He could easily tell that Tommy hadn’t been operating at a hundred percent and desperately needed sleep. But Tommy was stubborn as a bull; vehemently insisting that he was fine. Robotboy wasn’t convinced. Most, if not all, of Tommy’s attention had been on that one-inch piece of electronic for hours on end.

 

Lola and Gus had come by a few times and tried to get Tommy out of the house, but the stalwart blonde boy turned them down, saying it was crucial that he finish this project as soon as possible. Robotboy’s attempts of taking Tommy out of that cursed room and somewhere else were also fruitless. While he was bored out of his circuits about not doing anything outside for three weeks straight, the little robot was more worried about how this self-imposed seclusion was beginning to take a toll on Tommy’s health. Along with sounding bad and looking thinner, Tommy was getting more worn out as each day passed. His usually tan skin was a few shades paler, and he had been sneezing and coughing a lot. He nodded off for a few minutes at a time, indicating just how exhausted he truly was, and his coordination was whacky at best. It was a mystery how well he managed to work his tools with his shaky hands. Putting all the evidence together, Robotboy concluded that his human pal was getting sick, which meant it was up to him to do something before it escalated.

 

Robotboy’s ruminating was interrupted by another sneeze followed by a short sharp cry and a loud thud. When he turned his attention back to Tommy, he saw that the boy had fallen from the desk and was now curled up on the floor, clutching his left hand protectively against his chest, groaning in pain. The soldering iron was haphazardly lying nearby, still on.

“Tommy?!” Robotboy exclaimed, rushing to his friend’s side. “Tommy! You okay? What happen?”

Tommy continued to groan in response, tears streaming from his eyes. Robotboy gently grabbed the injured hand to inspect. He saw a nasty looking burn mark on Tommy’s index finger.

“I-I’m fine,” Tommy fibbed, moaning as he took his hand back, trying to hide the wince. He quickly wiped away the tears. “It d-doesn’t even hurt.”

Tommy stood up on trembling legs and was immediately overwhelmed with vertigo. One second he was falling backwards, dark spots dancing in his vision, the next he was lying in a pair of robotic arms, hazily looking up into a pair of concerned glowing, blue eyes.

 “Tommy lie,” Robotboy said pragmatically. “You not well. Need rest and medicine.”

“Medicine? Ro, I’m not sick.” Tommy defiantly objected. He pushed himself out of Robotboy’s arms and stood up, this time more carefully.

He stumbled towards his workbench, eagerly wanting to resume his project. Robotboy sighed and grabbed the back of Tommy’s shirt to not only prevent his friend from continuing forward, but to also keep him from stepping on the still hot soldering iron with his bare feet. Robotboy extended his left hand and picked the iron up, placing it back in its holder on the soldering station.

“Yes you are.” Robotboy picked Tommy up, being of no effort to him, and held him over his head as he carried the boy towards the bed. “Tommy been in room long time, working too hard.”

“Exactly, and I need to get back to work, Robotboy. Now put me down!”

“Okie dokie, but Robotboy put Tommy down on bed.” Robotboy did just that, effortlessly holding him in place while he securely tucked him in to the point where Tommy could barely move. Tommy wasn’t amused.

“Very funny, Ro. I told you I’m not sick. And since when are there three of you?” Tommy freed an arm so that he could point a finger at one of the Robotboys that he saw, squinting with confusion.

            “Three? Only one Robotboy,” the little bot said, trying not to show how disturbed he was about his friend seeing double, or triple in this case.

 “Robotboy need get medicine, Tommy stay in bed.” Robotboy instructed commandingly.  
            Tommy grumbled something about Ro being a nannybot as he rolled over, facing the wall. He tried to stifle a cough with his blanket, but Robotboy’s super-hearing picked it up. The little robot sighed, shaking his head.

 

Robotboy flew out of the room, heading for the bathroom. It was real lucky that Tommy’s parents and brother almost always seemed to be out of the house at the most opportune times. In this instance, Deb and Dwight Turnbull were out of town visiting Grandma T and Donnie was who knows where. As the robot rummaged through the cabinets for some burn ointment, Band-Aids and cold medicine, he failed to notice a certain blonde-haired boy making his way down the hall and towards the stairs, mumbling something incoherently as if he was talking to someone.

 

Robotboy had just found what he was looking for when a frighteningly loud series of thuds startled him. He dropped the items, which clattered to the floor, and raced towards the staircase in time to see Tommy unsteadily picking himself up at the base; it was apparent that he had just fallen down them. Robotboy noticed that Tommy had his backpack on, for some reason, along with one untied shoe, most likely the culprit of him tripping.

“Tommy?!” Robotboy hurried down the stairs, grabbing the addressed child’s arm in a strong but tender grip. “What doing? You supposed to be in bed! Tommy?”

He waved a hand in front of Tommy’s glassy eyes, but the boy heeded him no attention.

“Tommy!” Despite yelling, Robotboy’s anxious voice fell upon deaf ears. It was as if he didn’t exist at all.

Just then, Tommy pulled his arm free of the robot’s grip and walked towards front door, wobbling slightly.

“I’m going to school now, Mom.” Tommy said in a voice that suggested he wasn’t quite in the present.

“Huh?” Robotboy tilted his head. He ran to block Tommy’s path, holding his arms out. “It summer vacation, you no have school, remember? You okay, Tommy?”

“Move, Donnie.” Tommy growled, shoving past Robotboy. “I don’t have time for you to pick on me, today.”

Robotboy’s circuits were now in a fray. It was one thing to seem invisible, but to be mistaken for _Donnie_?! “No, it me, Robotboy!”

The little robot was even more worried than before. Tommy was hallucinating! Robotboy had assumed his best friend just caught a minor case of the common cold from being cooped up inside for so long, but he could clearly see it was way more severe than that. Hallucinations meant Tommy was feverous and that Robotboy had to return him to his room before the illness took a turn for the worse!

 

“Tommy need sleep. You not well, come!” Robotboy demanded, reaching out for Tommy’s wrist, missing it as it was yanked away. Ignoring the robot’s protests, Tommy continued towards the front door. He had just grabbed the doorknob when his eyes rolled back and his legs buckled. He then crumpled onto the floor, landing on his side, unconscious. He was breathing raggedly.

“Tommy!” Robotboy rushed over to his friend and immediately did a full-body scan. The information he received told him that Tommy had just worn himself out. His fever was around 103 degrees Fahrenheit and was sluggishly rising. If he wasn’t already there before, Robotboy was now in frantic mother-hen mode.

Robotboy carefully scooped his friend into his arms, somewhat awkwardly due to the fact that Tommy was a few inches taller than him, and dashed back to the bedroom where he redeposited the boy in his bed after removing his shoe and backpack. Robotboy covered Tommy up to his chin with the blanket. A thin layer of sweat had broken out on Tommy’s face and neck. Robotboy had to get that fever under control and fast! Returning to the bathroom, he grabbed a clean washcloth from the linen closet and from under the sink, a small basin, filling it with cold water. Robotboy placed the washcloth on the edge of the basin then grabbed the items he came into the bathroom for in the first place before bringing them back to Tommy’s room.

 

Tommy’s breathing was more heavy as he tossed and turned, entangling the blanket around his torso and legs. Robotboy scooted the worktable closer to the bed then placed his load on top of it. Next he landed on the mattress beside Tommy, firmly grasping his shoulders, shaking him slightly.

“Tommy, it me, Robotboy. Please wake up,” he called out.

Tommy halted his thrashing, turning his head at the sound of a familiar voice. His eyes fluttered opened to slits, seeing a pair of blue lights staring back at him, almost blinding him with how close and bright they were. Robotboy realized this and backed up a little as he dimmed his optical sensors.

“Ro?” Tommy asked with a tinge of confusion in his voice.

Robotboy nodded, bending down to make sure his friend saw him.  “It me, Tommy. You okay?”

“Not really,” Tommy moaned weakly. “I feel hot.”

“Robotboy cool Tommy down, make you feel better.” Robotboy told him fondly with a sympathetic smile.

With that, Robotboy grabbed the washcloth, folded it longways, and dipped it in the cold water. He then draped the damp cloth across Tommy’s forehead.

Tommy immediately felt instant relief. He sank into his pillow with a sigh.

“Thanks, Robotboy,” he murmured before slipping into a peaceful slumber.

 

Robotboy grinned, feeling pleased that he was able to give Tommy a much needed respite from the terrible fever. His temperature was still something to be concerned about, but the cold washcloth should help with that.

As Tommy rested, Robotboy tasked himself with putting some ointment on the burn and bandaging it then freed Tommy’s body from the blanket trap. Afterwards, he covered his closest friend back up and sat down on the floor near Tommy’s head, where he spent the next few hours keeping a vigilant watch on Tommy’s temperature, wetting and reapplying the washcloth and waking him to give him doses of the medicine as need be. The grandfather clock downstairs had just chimed 10 o’clock when another sound Robotboy knew all too well made itself present. The little robot looked down at his forearm, a panel sliding open to reveal his battery meter. It was flashing and emitting an obnoxious beep, warning Robotboy that his batteries were running low and that he would deactivate within minutes if he didn’t get to his charging station soon.

Robotboy hurriedly muted the pesky noise before it disturbed Tommy. He now had a dilemma on his hands. While he knew it was crucial to recharge his batteries, Robotboy couldn’t just leave Tommy by himself, especially now, not in his current condition. Going into charging mode meant that he’d be inactive for at least two hours. Robotboy wouldn’t be able to help Tommy should he need it. Then again, he wouldn’t be able to help him as an inert doll, either.

 

Robotboy begrudgingly made up his mind. He’d just have to risk leaving Tommy for a short while. The sooner he did this, the sooner he could resume helping his friend.  Tommy’s temperature seemed to be at a safe level for now, so he should be alright. Robotboy rewetted and reapplied the washcloth one more time before he stood up. He walked over to where his charging station was located, which was below the windowsill. An idea came to the robot that he thought would help Tommy more. Having a bit of time to spare, Robotboy reach up to slide the window open, allowing for some refreshing air to waft into the room. He then grabbed the charging cable and attached it to the port in his posterior panel. Robotboy then lay down on his stomach atop the beanbag chair, facing Tommy. He watched the sleeping child until his vision faded.

 

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

Midnight rolled around and the house was dark and still. Upstairs in the bedroom of a preteen boy, a stream of moonlight poured in through the window, accompanied by a soft, cool breeze that caressed the curtains, making them billow. It was nearly silent, the only sounds being the settling floorboards and a series of faint bleeps coming from a small, deactivated silver-coated robot lying on an orange beanbag chair three feet away from the bed. Thin blue lines ran across his horizontally slit eyes, indicating that he was in recharge mode. After a few more minutes, the lines vanished and an automated voice echoed through the room.

_“CHARGE COMPLETE. BATTERIES AT FULL POWER. REENTERING ACTIVATED MODE.”_

            Robotboy’s systems came back online, one-by-one, as he awoke exactly two hours later. His new lithium-ion batteries were a blessing from Moshimo. His other ones had almost always run out at the most inconvenient moments, rendering him as a useless, defenseless doll, which nearly costed the lives of him and his friends. He didn’t have to worry about that happening anymore for these new batteries held a better charge for longer periods of time and also recharged more quickly. Tommy made sure to keep a full stock in his lab bench and also carried a few on him for those just in case moments.

 

When his systems were fully operational, Robotboy sat up, yawning and stretching. He felt reinvigorated and ready to resume his caretaker role. But when Robotboy looked over at the bed and didn’t see Tommy at all, a dry washcloth lying on the ground, he nearly jumped out of his metal skin.

            “ _*gasp*_ Tommy?!”

Robotboy tore out of the house after practically turning it upside down searching for his missing friend. He glanced up and down the street, trying to see if he could find any clues as to what happened to Tommy. Suddenly, something in the moonlight flashed, catching the robot’s attention. He zipped towards a trashcan down the road, dropping beside it to peer at the source of the flash. The object turned out to be Tommy’s watch, the one he used to activate and deactivate Robotboy as well as communicate with him.

            “Oh no!”

This was really, really, _really_ bad. All hopes he had of tracking Tommy down by using the watch were dashed and Robotboy badly wanted to find him as soon as possible before something happened to him!

 

After picking up the only tangible thing he had left of his best friend to help keep him focused, determinedly clutching it in his tiny fist, Robotboy took to the sky, starting for the city. Robotboy could only hope this was where Tommy had ran off to. He really wasn’t sure where else he could’ve gone though. He knew Kamikazi didn’t kidnap him since the evil genius would have contacted him by now to broker a trade: him for Tommy’s freedom. If Tommy wasn’t captured, that only meant one thing: he had left of his own accord, which was just as bad, if not more so.

Assuming he had done so shortly after Robotboy deactivated himself, Tommy had a two hour headstart, which meant he could be anywhere in The Bay Area at this point. Robotboy could be flying in the opposite direction for all he knew. This only served to make the robot start panicking, fearing that his friend’s fever might have spiked again and that he was alone somewhere being plagued with more hallucinations. The city was so big and full of many dangers that Robotboy didn’t dare think about what troubles could befall on his missing bestie.

 

Robotboy considered getting Lola and Gus to help him search, but it was late and he didn’t want to disturb them, despite this being an emergency. However, there was one person he could call anytime and would always be obliged to offer his assistance, no matter the hour of day. Robotboy stopped flying and held the watch up, pressing one of the center buttons. Almost immediately a hologram of an elderly Japanese man wearing a nightgown appeared. He was rather happy to see who had called him, even if was just past midnight.

“Robotboy, hello my son. How are you?” Professor Moshimo greeted jovially.

“Moshimo! Tommy in trouble, please help!” Robotboy spurted out as soon as he saw his creator, catching him off guard.

“Whoa, calm down, Robotboy. Take a deep breath and slowly tell me what happened.” Moshimo said patiently, even as fear started to flood him. Hearing about Robotboy or Tommy being in trouble never failed to make the robotologist fret. Moshimo considered Tommy to be family, like the grandson he’s always wanted. It was very much how he perceived Robotboy as his own son. He was also just as protective of the boy as Robotboy was.

 

Robotboy inhaled deeply and let out a calming breath. He addressed Moshimo again speaking more clearly this time.

“Tommy been working too hard for past few weeks. He get really sick, have hallucinations. Robotboy needed recharge but when Robotboy wake up, Tommy was gone!”

“Oh my, that’s certainly not good.” Moshimo rubbed his chin. “Wait, you have his watch?”

Robotboy nodded solemnly.

Moshimo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Finding him without it will prove to be most difficult.”

“We must try,” Robotboy pleaded. “Robotboy worried about Tommy!”

“I know you are, my son. I am, too. Miumiu and I will be there with the hovercar, shortly. Do you think you can wait until then?”

Robotboy nodded. Moshimo’s hologram then vanished. The little bot looked across the city, his ears drooping.

“Please be safe, Tommy.”

 

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

The blonde haired child tripped as he staggered down the steep sidewalk. He tumbled forward, landing on the coarse cement and scraping his elbows. Blood seeped from the minor wounds and tiny bits of gravel became embedded in his palms as he pushed himself back onto his feet. He didn’t register the pain from the scrapes because of his fever making him oblivious to it. Tommy groaned as he looked around through squinted eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings, but everything looked hazy and unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t even sure if he was in the part of the city he’d frequented many times or if he had accidentally wandered into the Tenderloin. He couldn’t be certain at this point, but _really_ hoped it wasn’t the latter.

 

As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, Tommy’s fever had come back with a vengeance, bringing about more trouble for him. The last one had him believe that a horde of Kamikazi’s clones invaded his home and kidnapped Robotboy before escaping. He had rushed after them to rescue his little buddy since he wasn’t about to let him be used for world conquest. It wasn’t till almost an hour of chasing later when Tommy realized that he had been subjected to a very realistic fever dream. He’d been trying to find his way home ever since then, but was too disoriented to make out the street signs. Tommy really needed to get home; he was certain Robotboy was frying his circuits worrying about him…if he wasn’t already out looking for his sorry, lost butt, that is.

 

Tommy felt like he was lugging around a sack of cinderblocks with every step he took, his feet barely leaving the ground as he dragged them forward. He was getting so tired and an abundance of sweat dripped down his face, even though he was shivering at the same time. It was getting very difficult to breathe, too, and the cold night air stung his windpipe. Tommy made up his mind: he had to rest for just a few minutes. Hopefully that would allow him to gather his bearings. He shakily pulled himself on top of a bench that was thankfully nearby, collapsing on his back. His head pounded from the street lamp light above flooding into his eyes, so he rolled over on his side, facing the road, and closed his heavy eyelids, wrapping his arms around his chest to try and keep the little heat he had from escaping. A little nap wouldn’t hurt. But what Tommy didn’t realize was that his already bad night was just about to get a whole lot worse.

 

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

 A mysterious figure peeked out from behind his hiding spot; a pair of shifty, hungry eyes locking onto the slumbering boy as a crooked grin formed on his face. Another hapless victim had just meandered into Jack the ‘Napper’s territory and it appeared that he wouldn’t be able to put up as much of a fight like the others had done. Oh, how he had lost so many precious children that way. This one will be an easy one, that’s for sure. There wasn’t a soul to be seen, as any sane person would be sound asleep at this time of night. Jack knew this moment wouldn’t last for long; a stray car or person could appear at any given time so he had to make his move now before that happened or before the boy awoke. Jack swiftly slunk out from the safety of the shadows of the alleyway and glided towards the bench, the long, frayed overcoat that engulfed his body dragging across the ground.

 

Jack was infamous throughout The Bay Area; being wanted on more than one account for kidnapping, murder, and other heinous crimes that were far too gruesome to even mention. He made his home in the shadiest part of the Tenderloin area and was more like a walking corpse than a human with his gaunt face and death-grey leathery skin that stretched over his cheekbones, giving it a sunken look. His stringy, black hair was long, filthy, and matted; his eyes bloodshot and walleyed, which represented his state of mind rather fittingly. He anxiously licked his chapped, dry lips as he reached out his hands, his spindly fingers-which had nails that looked like they never saw trimmers before-twitching with anticipation. Jack inched closer and closer to the bench, until he was standing directly behind it. He waited for a few more seconds, glancing around one more time to make sure that no one was coming in either direction, before he finally made his move.

 

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

Tommy had just been on the brink of a deep sleep when someone abruptly grabbed him from behind, forcefully yanking him up off the bench. He was held against their rather boney and foul-smelling body, which wanted to make him throw up. Tommy was no stranger to being a victim of capture, having loads of experience with Dr. Kamikazi’s goons and Constantine who liked using him and his friends as bait to get to Robotboy. Tommy vigorously attempted to free himself as he had done during those times. His fever and weakness was replaced by adrenaline and a dire need to escape as he wiggled and jerked. While this didn’t always work, it did serve as a distraction so that Robotboy could swoop in and take out the fiend and save his pals.

That was what Tommy was hoping would happen with his current would-be kidnapper. He just didn’t take suddenly being slammed onto the ground into consideration. Tommy’s head connected with the pavement so hard, black spots and stars danced across his vision, leaving him temporarily stunned and confused.

The next thing he knew, a heavy weight was on top of him, pressing down onto his back, keeping him in place. Tommy’s arms were then harshly pulled behind him, making him yelp as his shoulders protested against the cruel treatment. Next, his wrists were bound together by a length of rope followed by another one coiling around his torso, keeping his arms pinned tightly to his sides. His mind beginning to clear, Tommy saw no way of emancipating himself now. There was only one option left. He wasn’t sure if it’d work, but it was his last hope. Taking a deep breath, he screamed into the night as loudly as he could.

_“ROBOTBOY! HE-”_

 

Tommy’s cry was cut short by a filthy, red cloth being tautly placed over his mouth then tied in a secure knot behind his head, muffling any more sounds he tried to make. Only his legs were left free to feebly kick at his captor as he was picked up. He managed to land a few good hits, eliciting some pained grunts from them. Whoever had him wasn’t easily dissuaded, however, and just chuckled as they started running off with their fresh prey tucked underneath one arm.

“Don’t worry, my little friend,” a cold, raspy voice whispered into Tommy’s ear, sending chills throughout his body. “I promise it will be over quick, but first…we’re going to have a little _fun_.”

Tommy’s eyes widened with fear, breaking out in a cold sweat. He had a vague idea what this person intended to do to him, which made his heart pound furiously, fueling his desperate need to liberate himself. Unfortunately, the remnants of the adrenaline Tommy had gotten earlier had just depleted, reverting him back to his previous condition. All he could do now was limply dangle and black out in his kidnapper’s clutches, hoping that he would be rescued soon before he became tomorrow’s headline.

 

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

The cobalt hovercar sailed through the night sky. It had three occupants: an elderly, erudite, Japanese man, a beautiful woman of the same ethnicity whom was thirty years his junior, and a small, adorable silver robot. Each of them was scrupulously scanning the ground below for their missing young friend; all of them very fretful and wishing to locate Tommy as soon as possible. Miumiu was at the controls while her fiancée, Professor Moshimo, sat in the passenger seat. Robotboy stood in back of the hovercar, leaning as far over the side as he could, making good use of his enhanced vision and hearing.

 

All of a sudden, Robotboy’s ears perked upright.

“ _STOP_!” he shouted, startling both front passengers. Miumiu accidentally twisted the control yoke, nearly causing the aircraft to go into a barrel roll. Moshimo’s fiancé quickly got it back under control and stopped the hovercar so precipitously that Robotboy nearly fell out of the vehicle. It hovered in midair while Moshimo and Miumiu whipped around to face the little robot.

“What is it, Robotboy?” the robotologist asked eagerly. “Did you detect anything?”

The robot shot out of the backseat, nodding frantically and looking extremely apprehensive.

“Robotboy hear Tommy cry for help! He in trouble!”

Moshimo opened his mouth to say something, but a warning alarm blared, cutting him off.

“Oh, great,” he growled in disbelief when Miumiu pointed at the fuel gage, which showed that the hovercar was about empty from flying around nearly all night.

“Robotboy, go find Tommy, we’ll catch up after we refill the hovercar!” Moshimo ordered.

Robotboy gave a brisk nod before zooming away, following the direction of Tommy’s distress call. It didn’t take long, but when Robotboy finally did locate his best friend, he couldn’t help the gasp of horror that escaped him. He did _not_ like what he was seeing. Some grotesque-looking man had hold of a bound and gagged semi-conscious Tommy as he fled through alleyways and backstreets. Robotboy sensed that this man had malevolent intentions for his poor friend. His face contorted into a fuming scowl as he raced to the rescue.

 

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

Jack had just rounded a street corner when a small robot suddenly dropped out of the sky and landed in his path. Startled, he skidded to a stop and stared dubiously down at the robot, which was poised in a fighting stance; his body leaning slightly forward and small fists clenched and raised at his sides. One leg stretched out in front of the robot while the other supported him from behind. Jack wasn’t sure what to make of this turn of events. Meanwhile, Tommy had just regained consciousness and jadedly looked up, wondering why they stopped. Brief shock then immense relief rushed through him when he saw his robotic buddy, whom he cried out to through his gag.

“What are you?” Jack asked, twisting his face into a disgusted snarl.

“You have Robotboy friend,” the robot responded coldly, pointing accusingly at Jack. “You let Tommy go _now_ or _else_!” His authoritive tone and deadly threat contradicted his overall adorable, toy-like appearance. Robotboy pounded a fist into his palm to accentuate his words; a loud metallic clang echoed through the air.

Normally this would make most of his adversaries back down, but Jack wasn’t easily persuaded. He guffawed at what he saw as just a mere bluff from a minute plaything.

“Sorry, tincan,” he sneered, “but _Tommy_ and I have a little… _arrangement_.” Jack ran a finger down Tommy’s cheek, his jagged fingernail slicing open a long gash as it grazed across the skin. Blood seeped out, dribbling down the side of the boy’s face.

Robotboy’s eyes enlarged at the sight of the red life-force leaking from his dear friend. The wound wasn’t life-threatening, but it was enough to make him _very_ angry. After all, _no one_ got away with injuring any of his friends without a good beat-down! He glared daggers at Jack, teeth clenched and fists shaking.

“You hurt Tommy, Robotboy hurt you!”

“Oh? And just what do you plan on doing about it, pipsqueak?” Jack scoffed, rolling his eyes and smirking haughtily. He unknowingly continued to press his luck by roughly petting Tommy’s hair. Tommy did not appreciate this one bit and pulled his head away as far from Jack’s hand as he could.

“I show you,” Robotboy growled, his eyes literally glowing red with rage.

 

Jack would be a big, fat liar if he claimed that he didn’t wet himself while cowering under the glower of a 7-foot killing machine that used to be the tiny robot he had been mocking just seconds ago. Four nine-barreled blasters-two in place of the robot’s hands while another pair jutted out from his shoulder blades-were aimed directly at the kidnapper’s head. Tommy smirked beneath the gag, knowing that Jack was in for a world of pain. Just then, the arm wrapped around him constricted as his captor started to slowly back away from the armed giant robot.

“I-I’m n-not afraid of you!” he fibbed in a quaking voice, shifting his eyes side to side, looking for an escape route. Robotboy had his sights locked on him, though, so there was no chance of Jack escaping, especially not with Tommy. Realizing this, Jack plunged a hand into his coat pocket and produced a 6-inch pocket knife. He held the jagged blade against Tommy’s throat, making the child whimper as he felt the edge of it press against the sensitive skin.

“Put down your weapons o-o-or I _will_ kill Tommy here and now!” Jack yelled, trying to mask his fear with false bravado.

 

When Robotboy saw the threat against his best friend, his anger rose, but he managed to keep it under control in order to maintain a collected demeanor. He had learned from the past that acting out of violence sometimes caused him to inadvertently harm someone, including Tommy and his friends. So he just narrowed his eyes and, with pinpoint accuracy that only a robot could pull off, he shot a single, thin laserbeam out of his left shoulder blaster. The ray of searing-hot energy hit the back of Jack’s hand. He yelled as the knife slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground and leaving him with a scorched extremity.

 

With the kidnapper distracted by the agony he was in and his attempts to cool the burn by blowing on it, Robotboy took this moment to smash a well-aimed, powerful fist into Jack’s face. This forced the man to release Tommy, whom Robotboy expertly caught with one hand, pulling him close in a one-armed hug. Jack flew backwards and landed inside a trashcan that then tipped over, spilling the smelly contents all over him. Jack moaned, in even more pain than he was before, as his broken and bloodied face began to swell. He then promptly passed out.

                                                                                                               

With the danger taken care of, Robotboy cradled Tommy in the crook of his right arm and removed the cloth that silenced him. He then snapped the bindings by just tugging once on them with his index finger.

“Thanks, Robotboy,” Tommy said gratefully, glad to finally be able to speak, freed of his bonds, and in the protection of his bestest buddy’s arms. He rubbed his sore wrists, which had deep red marks from where the ropes chafed against the flesh.

Robotboy announced a series of beeps as his way of welcoming his little friend, thankful that he was able to rescue him before that disgusting man could do anything with him. Speaking of whom, Robotboy scowled at the offender, wishing so badly that he could finish him off then and there, but he knew he couldn’t do that, not when Tommy had already been through so much and needed him. He’d just have to let the Bay Area PD take care of Jack and give him the punishment he rightfully deserved. Of course…that didn’t mean Robotboy couldn’t make their job easier for them.

 

About half-an hour later, Professor Moshimo and Miumiu arrived in the refilled hovercar. Robotboy, still in Superactive mode, climbed into the backseat with a sleeping Tommy nestled in his arms. The robotologist and his fiancé were so overjoyed when they saw the young boy safe and sound that tears started to stream from their eyes. Moshimo made the choice to bring Tommy back to his lab to recover, so he set a direct course for it and the machine shot into the sky. As Moshimo piloted the hovercar, Miumiu, who had the first-aid kit out and ready, tended to Tommy.

 

The nurturing woman rubbed some ointment on the boy’s wrists to soothe the rope abrasions then sprayed disinfectant on the cut on his cheek. Tommy hissed as it stung, curling up as far as he could against Robotboy’s chest. The robot comforted his companion by gingerly caressing his hair. Tommy involuntarily jerked-something that went unnoticed to Robotboy and Miumiu-when he felt someone touch his head, but relaxed once he noticed that the strokes were comforting and friendly instead of hurtful and inimical. Tommy calmed down and fell back into a deep sleep. Miumiu allowed a sigh of relief before she continued the treatment while Robotboy assisted by scanning Tommy for more injuries, pointing out the scrapes on his elbows. Miumiu set about patching those up, as well. With those two working together, no wound was left unbandaged.

 

Not long after the group had left the scene, the BAPD arrived, following an anonymous tip concerning a kidnapping followed by another one revealing the whereabouts and capture of Jack the ‘Napper, who they’d been after for months. They figured the two tips were related and really hoped this wasn’t just another hoax by someone after the reward money. However, what the police weren’t expecting to find upon arriving at the given location, was the much sought after elusive criminal tied to a streetlamp, not with rope, but with the _lamp itself_. He was also gagged with a red cloth. Jack’s swollen face was severely bruised and bloodied from his broken nose. He was unconscious, but the baffled officers knew he would have quite the tale to tell when he awoke behind bars. They just now had to figure out how they’d get Jack down and who had given him those injuries, captured him, and placed those anonymous tips. One long mystery turned into another headache.

( ﾟヮﾟ)

 

One hectic week of traumatizing nightmares, fear-inducing hallucinations, and sleep deficiency later, Tommy’s fever had finally broken. Robotboy had stayed right by his side throughout the entire ordeal; offering any comfort he could while constantly reassuring Tommy that he was in Professor Moshimo’s secret laboratory and not being held captive in Jack’s underground lair. Tommy violently flinched away from anyone who tried to touch or pick him up without him knowing. This made Robotboy extremely sad since he wanted nothing more than to give Tommy all the hugs he deserved. Oh, how he wished he could have done away with Jack for good. It was that monster’s fault for reducing his best friend to a paranoid shell of his former self, but he wasn’t about to let him live the remainder of his life that way. Robotboy will do everything in his power to see the sparkle in Tommy’s eyes once more.

 

Moshimo and Miumiu were napping in the adjacent room, having done all they could to provide for the shocked child, exhausting themselves to the point where their robot son insisted they get some rest. They were reluctant at first, but figured they’d be of no use to Tommy as zombies and left to snooze for a few hours. This left Robotboy to care for him, instead. He was more than happy to get a second chance of being a nursemaid. Tommy had fallen asleep a short while ago and Robotboy decided to join him on the sofa-bed Miumiu had nicely set up for them in the living room. The woman was always so kind to Robotboy, Tommy, Lola, and Gus-when he wasn’t being obnoxious. Miumiu treated them all as if they were her own children; being a second mother to Tommy and a real one to Robotboy, who, at one-time, wanted a real mom so much, he thought a greedy man disguised as a waitress with hair similar to the shape of his ears was his mother and had ended up robbing jewelry stores and banks for him. After that embarrassing ordeal, Tommy had told him that while he didn’t have a mom, he had him, Moshimo, Lola, and Gus and was more than happy to share his own mother with his robot buddy. Robotboy didn’t realize at the time that Miumiu was technically his real mom. When he did, boy was he ecstatic.

 

The mattress suddenly shifted, awakening Robotboy. He opened his eyes to find Tommy hunched over on the side of the bed, uneasily looking around, arms hugged protectively around himself. It was as if he had just woken up from a bad dream-which was probably the case-and was now just validating his surroundings. Ever since that horrible night, bad dreams haunted Tommy. He was afraid that everytime he woke up, he’d find himself strapped down on a grimy bed with that horrible man menacingly standing nearby, prepared to do terrible things to him. He wanted to cry each time he saw the friendly faces of his friends and cozy accommodations, thinking that it was too surreal to be out of the danger he had been in just days ago. He almost expected it to be another nightmare.

 

Robotboy scooted to sit beside Tommy, being close enough to provide him with reassurance and peace of mind but far enough to respect Tommy’s wish of not wanting physical contact. Tommy continued observing the room for a couple more minutes, visibly getting more relaxed when he saw that there was no threat around. He then glanced over at Robotboy, a strained smile forming on his face. It had taken him awhile to convince himself that he was safe and amongst good company.

“Tommy want eat?” Robotboy inquired gently, hoping the answer would be different this time.

Tommy hadn’t eaten much since that day, his stomach not feeling up to it, and not just because of him being ill. Memories of Jack’s ghastly face always seemed to think that mealtime was the appropriate time to appear in Tommy’s mind, which led to the food he’d been trying to eat make a hasty retreat into the toilet, never having a chance to reach the boy’s stomach. Robotboy saw how much thinner his human pal was looking, more so than before, but tried not to let his apprehension show too much. That was easier said than done, unfortunately.

“No, I’m not really hungry, right now,” Tommy answered in a voice that had an underlying depressive tone. “But thanks, Ro.”

 “Tommy eat later?” Robotboy asked hopefully.

“I’m not sure, Ro, but I promise that I’ll try.” Tommy wasn’t sure if he could even do that.

“Okie dokie smokie.”

 

Not wanting to press the matter, they left it at that. The two best friends sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence for the next hour until Professor Moshimo and Miumiu woke up. The well-rested couple entered the room side-by-side, Moshimo knocking on the doorframe on the way. They approached the fold-out and, after asking for his permission, Miumiu gave Tommy a loving embrace. She gave another one to Robotboy before she excused herself to fix a nutritious lunch for them all, excluding her robot son, who did not need to eat.

 

Tommy still couldn’t believe he’d been staying at Moshimo’s hidden abode for a week now. His mentor had told him that on the night of the incident, he had called Tommy’s mother, using a voice modifier to make his own sound like his protégé. He had gotten Deb’s permission to stay over at Gus’ house for the week, which would allow Moshimo to care for Tommy without his parents-well, his mother, at least-freaking out over their youngest son’s whereabouts. Moshimo had then contacted Gus, giving him a short summary of the evening’s events, asking him to follow along with the cover story should Tommy’s mother call to check up on him.

Knowing that Gus was a good liar and would do just that, Moshimo had no reason to be doubtful. He had then called Lola, who was aghast and very concerned about the person she’d been crushing on for as long as she could remember. She was super glad to hear that Tommy was somewhere safe with people that he could trust. Lola wanted to bring Gus to visit Tommy, but feared that they would jeopardize the location of Moshimo’s secret lab, so she figured they could just wait until Tommy was back home and feeling a lot better to do something with him.

 

“Good afternoon, Tommy, Robotboy.” Moshimo greeted with a warm smile, waving a hand.

“Hello, Professor/Good afternoon, Professor Moshimo,” the boys replied in unison, Tommy’s voice being the softest.

“How are you feeling, Thomas?” Moshimo asked, approaching the sofa-bed and crouching before the child.

“Well I don’t feel as sick as I was, anymore, Professor,” Tommy answered, rubbing his arm, not meeting the inventor’s eyes. Moshimo pretended not to notice the tension in Tommy’s voice.

“Mmhmm, the medicine is working fairly well.” He wanted to keep the conversation rolling. This was the most he’s gotten his young charge to speak all this week and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity of getting him to talk about what had clearly been gnawing at him slip by.

“I’m going to try to eat a bit more today,” Tommy added, not aware that he was falling into the elder’s trap. “I’m not sure if it’ll be a lot, though.”

“That’s fine. There is no need to rush, Tommy. We don’t want you getting even sicker. Eat as much as you can and we’ll slowly work our way from there. Now…” Moshimo’s face became serious. “How are you truly feeling?”

Tommy looked up at the older man in startled surprise. Robotboy curiously gaped up at his father/creator.

“What…what do you mean? Nothing’s wrong, I swear!” Tommy felt his heartbeat quicken; the sensors Robotboy had been keeping on his vitals informed him of this. He knew that Tommy wasn’t being honest and was urgently thinking of how to get out of talking about his feelings. Neither Robotboy nor Moshimo was going to let him, however. Tommy had to talk for the sake of his mental stability.

“Tommy, I know it’s hard to admit when you’re afraid, especially if it’s of something like what happened, but you cannot keep your emotions bottled up inside for too long. It will only do you more harm than good.”

“Moshimo right,” Robotboy nodded in confirmation. “Tommy need to talk. Talk help make Tommy feel better. Please?” he added, clasping his hands together and fixing his pal with a pleading look.  
           

Tommy nervously looked down at the ground, biting his lower lip as he thought about what he should say. His stomach was tying itself in knots; he really didn’t want to think of the incident, but he knew the Professor and his little buddy were right. The longer he ignored the elephant in the room, the heavier it would become until he was suffocating under the crushing weight of it. Moshimo and Robotboy patiently waited for their friend to speak again.

“I’m such an idiot,” Tommy said at last, catching the two of them off guard. Well, they weren’t expecting him to start off like _that_.

“Tommy no idiot,” Robotboy quickly denied the claim, shaking his head so fast it seemed like it would fly off.

“Certainly not,” Moshimo agreed. “Tommy, why do you say that?”

Tommy sighed as if his mentor should already know. “Because it’s my fault I got so sick in the first place! And…and then...” Tommy moaned, hiding his face in his hands. He choked back a sob that was threatening to escape his tight throat. He began feeling nauseous again. Robotboy really wanted to hug him right then, but had to grudgingly refrain from doing so.

 

“Take a deep breath,” Moshimo patiently instructed, being more calm and collected than his greatest creation.

Tommy took down his hands, inhaling a shaky breath. He slowly released it, feeling the nausea slip away. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked up at Moshimo’s smiling face.

“There we go. Now, start again, if you please.”

“I’m an idiot because I had been so focused on the microchip I’ve been working almost nonstop on since the start of summer vacation that I completely ignored my health and friends. I’m so sorry, Ro,” Tommy added with an apologetic glance at his robotic bestie. “This would have been the first thing for Robotboy that I created by myself by using the skills and knowledge you taught me, Professor. I wanted the chip to be _perfect_ since it was going to make him faster and stronger the longer it’s installed. It was going to aid him in battles, especially during times when he’s unable to Superactivate.”

Tommy paused to take another deep breath.

“But because I was so dead set on completing it, I-I worked myself to the point of catching a cold which developed into a bad fever that then caused me to hallucinate. At one point I had thought Kamikazi’s clones captured Robotboy, so I ran after them to get him back. By the time I realized it wasn’t real, I was lost in the worst part of the city, too tired to make it back home. I fell asleep to try and regain some strength, but just ended up getting into even bigger trouble. Truthfully, I’ve never felt as afraid as I had when that man grabbed me. I tried so hard to escape, but I was just too weak.” Tommy’s voice cracked as he tried to prevent himself from crying. “Then he told me that we were going to have…f-fun.”

 

Tommy suddenly looked very ill at that last part; his skin tone noticeably paling as he started trembling. He hurriedly jumped off the sofa-bed, making a beeline for the bathroom, tripping a few times before he reached it, slamming the door shut. Robotboy and the professor winced when they heard retching. They debated whether or not they should check on the poor boy, but just decided that Tommy needed a little time to himself to recuperate. Confessing must have been like reliving that dreadful experience all over again. They almost regretted doing this to him.

 

After five tense minutes, Tommy remerged from the bathroom, looking embarrassed as he held his stomach. He shuffled his feet back over to his friends.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy mumbled, staring down at the carpet, not wanting to meet their concerned eyes.

“It okay,” Robotboy said sympathetically. “Tommy no need be sorry.”

“That’s right, Robotboy,” agreed Moshimo. “What happened was out of your control, Tommy. You did what you could, despite your condition; even managing to call for Robotboy. I’ll tell you something, though. That was one wild ride I could’ve done without!” Moshimo added with a small chuckle. At Tommy’s confused expression, the inventor cleared his throat and continued. “Anyways, there are many kinds of bad people in this world who wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone, even if they’re a child such as yourself. Just remember that it is _never_ the victim’s fault, no matter what others might think. While you shouldn’t ever literally work yourself sick again, Tommy, your intentions were good. I’m very proud of you taking upon such a challenging project to help Robotboy out. You certainly have the stick-to-itiveness and zeal of a budding robotologist!”

 

Moshimo slowly reached out with a hand, intending to place it upon Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy flinched back as the shadow from it entered his peripheral vision, but he relaxed slightly when he saw that it belonged to the professor. He allowed his eldest friend to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Robotboy hopped off the sofa-bed and held his arms out with a sincere look on his face. Tommy accepted his buddy’s invitation to hug him. Robotboy poured as much love as he could into it, happy that he could finally give his best friend one. He didn’t let go until Tommy decided he that he was done.

“Robotboy love Tommy!” the tiny robot exclaimed cheerfully, making the boy laugh, pulling him away to pat his head.

“Tommy love Robotboy, too.”

 

At that moment, Miumiu appeared in the doorway, signifying that lunch was complete. She walked over to join her three favorite boys. She smiled genially down at Tommy, who looked thoughtful about something. He then surprised everyone by running over to wrap his little arms around Miumiu’s legs. It seemed like Tommy was now comfortable enough to allow physical contact from the three of them. The woman giggled, kneeling down to pull the adorable boy into her own arms, stroking his hair with one hand. Tommy relished the motherly affection. Moshimo and Robotboy watched this heartwarming scene before looking at each other with pleased smiles. They then joined Miumiu and Tommy, forming a group hug that made the entire room radiate with the love produced by it, Tommy being the recipient of most of it. They broke apart after 10 minutes but Robotboy remained holding lovingly onto Tommy’s arm. Moshimo ruffled the two hairs sticking up from Tommy’s head as Miumiu planted a kiss on the child’s cheek. It was at that moment when Tommy felt very blessed, realizing just how lucky he truly was.

 

He didn’t have many friends, but Tommy didn’t care one bit. He’d rather have a small, close-knit circle of people who genuinely loved and cared about him over a cluster of “friends” that would eventually end up leaving him whenever they got the chance. Robotboy, Professor Moshimo, Miumiu, Lola, and Gus were Tommy’s second family and while there had been a few times where their bond was almost ruined, he wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. He didn’t doubt that they felt the same way about him. Tommy wasn’t sure where he’d be without any one of them and, honestly, he didn’t want to know. He was just glad they existed in his life now.

“So,” Tommy said nonchalantly, “what’s for lunch? I’m feeling kinda starved.”

 

Hearty laughter filled the room. That glorious statement marked the beginning of Tommy’s rehabilitation. Everyone knew in the back of their minds that there was still a long way to go before Tommy was completely back to his playful, innovative, robot-obsessed self and that once he was back home, they’d each have to do their best to keep a very close eye on him, preventing him from relapsing, while avoiding Tommy’s parents and brother at the same time. Moshimo, Miumiu, and Robotboy had already decided that they didn’t want the rest of the Turnbulls-even Tommy’s mother, though she meant well-to become involved, in fear of making things worse when they already had the situation well in hand and to keep any worries at bay. It was going to be hard, but they’d manage.

The road to recovery stretched before them and it was full of bumps, dead-ends, and potholes that was surely going to make the journey incredibly difficult and uncomfortable. It would also greatly push Tommy to his limits, making him want to do a U-turn, and take an emotional toll on Robotboy, Moshimo, Miumiu, Lola, and Gus. But they were more than happy to tag along for the ride if it meant helping their friend; willing to pick Tommy up when he fell and motivate him to keep moving forward until he reached his final destination. With the people Tommy felt most comfortable around supporting and protecting him, it was like having five guardian angels. He knew then that he would be just fine and take his healing one step at a time.


End file.
